Seconds before, he and others huddled in front of the tarp, sure that a refinished 1965 Ford Mustang GT lay under it.

Instead, the tarp revealed a rusty, doorless remnant of what was once a functioning vehicle. The crowd laughed.

Then, from somewhere behind the trees, emerged the Mustang, the sun reflecting off its burgundy coat.

“Did you see the look on his face?” someone later said.

“That was priceless,” another replied.

But Justin didn’t hear. He was in the driver’s seat, reveling in the moment.

A SENSE OF HUMORBeing a Sutton means having a sense of humor.

They had it when, at 10 years old, Justin was diagnosed with two forms of leukemia.

Laughter got him through his bone marrow transplant at 11, when he watched “Seinfeld” with his parents at the hospital.

“We joke around probably too much, even in the hospital during the worst of it,” his mom, Robin, said one day, sitting in the living room.

In middle school, Justin completed his schoolwork through Homebound, a program for students too sick to attend school. Justin recovered from the disease after rounds of chemotherapy and radiation. In the ninth grade, he took on a regular class load at Riverbend High School.

As a senior, he seemed back on track.

Justin was about to graduate with an Advanced Studies Diploma. He was an athletic training aide for the school’s football team.

He, his 15-year-old brother, Jordan, and his dad, Craig, even started tinkering with a beat-up Mustang they got from a neighbor.

But in March, Justin, now 17, was diagnosed with skin cancer.

“We didn’t see this coming at all,” Craig Sutton said at his home.

The Suttons believe the previous rounds of chemotherapy and radiation led to the second cancer. It meant more daily treks to Richmond for treatment at MCV Hospitals.

It also meant the car, intended as a project between father and sons, had to wait.

HELPING OUTJustin remains matter-of-fact about his situation.

“You can’t go around sulking about it, so I just kind of make the best of it,” he said.

He stopped regular schooling for treatment. Between shuttling to Richmond and recuperating at home, he completed the schoolwork his mother, a substitute teacher at Riverbend, brought him.

He went to his friends’ houses to play “Rock Band” and to dabble in music.

“It helps a lot, instead of being cooped up in the house,” Justin said.

Upon hearing about the cancer, the community lent its support. Riverbend Principal Steve Fitch attended Justin’s graduation ceremony at MCV over the weekend.

Meanwhile, more than a dozen local auto shops had donated $25,000 to $30,000 of work into rebuilding the Mustang.

Sherman has known the Suttons for years and, with his business partner, Rob Rose, decided to take on the project.

They enlisted the help of John Watts, also a family friend of the Suttons, to solicit aid from local businesses.

“Even with everything that’s been going on with his life, he always is very chipper, very enthusiastic,” Watts said.

For two months, Sherman and others sent Justin photos of the car’s progress. When it was time to paint the first coat, they let Justin and his brother do the honors.

“To see him around this car, it’s just an incredible feeling because he just smiles,” Sherman said.

NOT AN EVERYDAY CAR“We’re going to kick this thing just like we did the first time,” Craig Sutton told family and friends gathered yesterday at a pavilion at a friend’s home.

None of them could have imagined the car would turn out like this, he said. Now, it was too nice to be an “everyday car.”

Many were in tears.

Justin has a summer of radiation ahead of him. When he turns 18 in July, he plans to be at the Jersey Shore with friends. He wants to go to college and maybe study history, his favorite subject.

He’ll know more once “this radiation thing” is over and done with, he said.

Craig Sutton held a scrapbook of the Mustang’s evolution. In one picture, Justin spray paints the first coat of burgundy, the car’s original color. In another, he takes a picture with his camera-phone.

The auto shops made Justin part of the process. The transmission, for instance, bears the signature he had scrawled weeks before.

With his brother riding shotgun, Justin turned on the ignition and revved the engine.